


Just Another Nighttime Melody

by suyari



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1917123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wakes up and doesn't know when he is. But that doesn't matter because one thing will always be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Nighttime Melody

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Lena Horne for so many wonderful songs to write these two by.

Steve rolls over and presses his face into the pillow. There are nights every now and again when he can’t tell what year it is. Laying in bed, unsure of whether he wants to wake up in one century or the other. Tonight is one of those. The sheets are cool beneath him, and the low thrum of music, and Lena Horne’s sweet voice are carrying in the stillness. It’s one of Bucky’s favorite songs. The reminder has him reaching out, but his hand sweeps across the vacant space beside him, finding nothing. 

He pushes himself up, scrubbing at his face and throws the covers aside. He’s lost to the moment, not bothering to take in any details from the house around him to identify his current place in the universe. Bucky’s in the living room, swaying slowly, his head low. Sighing, feeling his heart swell with the reminder of how close to perfect his life is now, Steve closes the distance between them. The man by whom Steve’s entire life can be measured barely pauses, even as he sinks back into the heat of his body. 

“She’s never going to fit in if we don’t let her listen to anything more modern,” he says, entirely undisturbed. 

Bucky snorts as he presses a kiss to his cold shoulder. He used to flinch whenever Steve did it, as if the change in his body could ever make Steve love him any less. He doesn’t now. And not just because it would wake the baby in his arms. He’s found peace in himself again, maybe more than he’d ever had. The return of his body confidence is the sexiest thing Steve’s ever seen, and it gets him dragged to bed more often than either had ever considered possible. 

But they don’t have to hide it anymore. And that more than anything keeps the pulse of their love alive, as if a fully sentient, highly opinionated external force. 

“Born in the wrong century,” Bucky says. “Our little old soul.”

Steve reaches out to wind the soft puff of a little curl about his index finger. “Can I cut in, Peggy?” 

“Manners,” Bucky drawls. “You don’t ask a pretty girl if you can dance with her fella.”

“Well then,” Steve replies, straightening and turning him around. “What if I just kissed him?”

“Manners,” his husband reminds him. But he smiles into the kiss and lets Steve pull them into his embrace, the three of them swaying together in the soft light of a single lamp. 

It isn’t perfect. There are too many reminders of that. And they’ll never get back what they’ve lost. Even if they’ve gained more than they could have ever dared dream. 

And in its own way, next to perfect’s just fine.


End file.
